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| O, WHAT care I where Love was born! | |
| I know where oft he lingers, | |
| Till night’s black curtain ’s drawn aside | |
| By morning’s rosy fingers. | |
| If you would know, come, follow me, | 5 |
| O’er mountain, moss, and river, | |
| To where the Nith and Scar agree | |
| To flow as one forever. | |
| |
| Pass Kirk-o’-Keir and Clover lea, | |
| Through loanings red with roses; | 10 |
| But pause beside the spreading tree | |
| That Fanny’s bower encloses. | |
| There, knitting in her shady grove, | |
| Sits Fanny singing gayly; | |
| Unwitting of the chains of love | 15 |
| She ’s forging for us daily. | |
| |
| Like light that brings the blossom forth, | |
| And sets the corn a-growing, | |
| Melts icy mountains in the north, | |
| And sets the streams a-flowing; | 20 |
| So Fanny’s eyes, so bright and wise, | |
| Shed loving rays to cheer us, | |
| Her absence gives us wintry skies, | |
| ’T is summer when she ’s near us! | |
| |
| O, saw ye ever such a face | 25 |
| To waken love and wonder; | |
| A brow with such an arch of grace, | |
| And blue eyes shining under! | |
| Her snaring smiles, sweet nature’s wiles, | |
| Are equalled not by many; | 30 |
| Her look it charms, her love it warms, | |
| The flower of Keir is Fanny. | |
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